


Tired and Weary

by KnightAngel



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur's Horse - Freeform, Exhaustion, Hurt/Comfort, let him sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 10:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20974136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightAngel/pseuds/KnightAngel
Summary: All he longed for was a moment of rest.





	Tired and Weary

**Author's Note:**

> I love RDR and Arthur and how they flushed his character out so much. I got this in my head a while back when Grimshaw grumped at Arthur about not doing anything right after he had just done all the chorse in camp and wrote it. Came across it today and decided to post it. Sorry for any errors, I tried to go over and correct them.

Arthur sighed as he dropped his tired frame to the warm ground around the campfire. After a crazy week of running around in the warm muggy air, he was exhausted. He had been going non-stop for God only knows how long. The days had been blurring together for some time and it seemed this nightmare just wouldn't end. All he longed for was a moment of rest.

The downhill trend for this past week started with a horse he was trying to catch for someone had bucked him off. Arthur had landed hard on his back, enough to knock the wind out of him. After a few more spectacular fails and falls, he was finally able to calm the horse enough to bring her back to her owner. A little bit of cash and a whole lot of bruises later, he was on his way.

Next was the dang circus crazies. He didn't care if the guy was dressing and acting like a woman, that didn't bother him one bit. No, what drove him insane was the thoughtless use of both domestic and wild animals together. A donkey painted as a zebra, then a dog dressed as a lion sent after a real hungry tiger, then the last loose God awful lion. That mark on his arm was definitely going to add to his collection of scars.

He was willing to bet that gem he was given as a 'thank you' was probably fake as well...

After a few long days of odd jobs around the country side, Arthur decided it was time to head back to camp. Rest, restock, and head back out again in this never ending cycle of trying to provide for his family.

He figured he probably should bring some meat back for Pearson as well. At least that would something of an accomplishment.

Another day or two of hunting and bagging himself a few birds and a nice size buck then he decided to make his way back to camp. Evening drew closer and he wasn't too far away, maybe another two or three hours and he'd be in his cot instead of his bedroll on the hard ground.

Sadly though, some Lemoyne raiders thought it would be a good idea to ambush him.

He tried to outrun them, too tired to fight them at the moment, but one decided to throw a rope around him. It caught around his shoulders and he was pulled off his beloved mare.

Again the wind was knocked from him as his shoulder hit the hard unforgiving ground. He didn't get a chance to recuperate though as the raiders were thundering towards him. He was able to pull the rope off and grab the pistols from his hips, bullets firing faster than thought possible. He was able to down some of them while making his way to a fallen log for cover. He picked off the rest as each one came into view.

Once the bullets had stopped whizzing by him, he was able to take a breather and assess himself for any damage. He wasn't bleeding, thank goodness, but he was sore as hell. In his scramble to get to the log he must have twisted his knee just right as it was throbbing. Not to mention the added sore shoulder and arm from the fall.

Arthur rested a moment, trying to gather the will and strength to get up. He whistled for his trusty mare. He knew she would be nearby.

After losing Boadicea, he spent a long while looking for another horse he could rely on. He had a beautiful white Arabian, but she was extremely flighty and would bolt at the littlest noise. This horse though, a dappled thoroughbred, now she was another story. He had saved her from being beaten by a cruel man. He had thought of selling her, but after he saw how brave and strong she was, he knew she was the one. She had been loyal to him ever since.

She trotted up to him and he scanned her over to make sure she was unharmed. Thankfully, his catch from the past few days were still attached to his saddle. That had to be the one good thing to happen so far.

His lovely mare dropped her head down to sniff at him, her own way of checking him over. He reached his unhurt arm up and pet her forehead. "That's a good girl. Think you can help this ol' boy up?" He chuckled as she snorted in response.

He maneuvered her where he was facing her side and used the stirrup to pull himself up. It took him a moment, but he was finally able to stand next to his mare. Next was the hard part: getting up in the saddle. The cowboy gave a long suffering sigh after a few disastrous tries.

He looked to the bodies around him to the forest a food few hundred yards away to the now dark sky above him.

"You know what, girl... We're gonna call it a night." He grabbed her reins and limped toward the direction of the forest. He knew he was being sloppy with leaving the bodies, but he was too tired and sore to care at the moment.

After a slow half hour to the trees, Arthur found a good hidden spot to lay his bedroll and set it up. He gave his trusty mare an apple from his bag and grabbed a can of corn for himself. Finally after a quick snack, he grabbed some ginseng and chewed on it to dull the pain in his knee. Then he laid down to rest and hopefully get some sleep.

Morning had come and with it he felt a little better than the night before. He was still sore, but it had dulled considerably. After a quick slice of cheese, he slowly mounted his horse and continued on towards camp.

He let his mare gallop leisurely until they reached the outskirts of the camp. There he slowed down and greeted Lenny who was on watch.

After leading his horse to the hitching post, he took a second to gather himself before dismounting. His knee still twinged and his shoulder throbbed a bit from the stress of moving. Once he caught his breath, he untied the buck and birds, grabbed them, and brought them to Pearson's table.

Said man rounded the back of his wagon and walked toward Arthur. "Finally you brought some good meat in. Was going to have to resort to sending Sean out hunting if someone didn't bring me something soon." He grumbled out.

Arthur grunted as he set the heavy buck down. "Yeah, well, been a little busy lately."

Pearson snorted. "Still should stop by now and then and bring something. You're the only one besides Charles who brings anything decent in."

The cowboy sighed. "I'll try to bring more in when I can." He turned from the cook and made his way back towards his horse.

Normally he would have probably told Pearson off for grumping at him, but he was too exhausted to care at the moment.

Once back to his beloved mare, he took his time to pamper her. He would have given anything to rest his aching body, but he needed to make sure his horse was good first. He unsaddled her, brushed her down, fed her a sweet treat, then tethered her so she could graze and relax with the other horses.

As he made his way back through camp he noticed almost all of the guys were gone. Dutch and Hosea were probably in Rhodes trying to find a good lead. And after eavesdropping a little as he passed through camp he found out that Charles and Miss Grimshaw had gone into town to get some supplies and the rest were out doing a stage coach robbery. And Uncle, of course, was being his lazy self and doing nothing.

Walking through Arthur sighed in exasperation when he noticed almost none of the heavy lifting chores had been done in a long while. Miss Grimshaw was going to be upset if something wasn't done.

Despite his aching body, he resigned himself to doing the chores everyone else seemed to hate. Normally it would have been easy work, but with his aching arm and sore knee, it seemed to take forever.

Hours later, hay bales had been moved and distributed, water filled into the tubs, sacks of grain moved, wood chipped and moved, and so much more had all been done. Dark had been encroaching when he finally settled at a table with a bowl of Pearson's stew. He ate slowly, trying to savor it along with the peace and quiet.

It wasn't much longer that all the guys had come back, apparently having done a decent job with all of their excitement. For once it seemed they got away without any bullets being fired at them.

After finishing his bowl, he decided to move closer to the fire and relax a bit before calling it a night. He eased his tall aching frame near the warm fire and let out a weary sigh. Sadly he didn't get to enjoy it for long as Miss Grimshaw and Charles came riding up next to the camp in the wagon.

He didn't pay much attention to them until he heard his name being called. "Mr. Morgan! Are you gonna sit there on your lazy butt all day or are you gonna pull your weight for once and help out?" Miss Grimshaw yelled from nearby.

Arthur sighed before lumbering his body upwards, grunting when he stepped wrong on his sore leg. "I wasn't being-" He started before being interrupted.

"You are gone all the time doing God only knows what, you never bring anything back, your chores never get done, and when I get back after being gone all day I see you lazing about the fire. No excuses. You can spare five minutes and help out." She scolded while waving her finger at him.

Not wanting to argue and point out all he DID do, he just sighed again and tried to walk over without limping. "Of course, Miss Grimshaw."

He spent the next half hour unloading the wagon with Charles' help. He tried so hard not to make any sound when his arm pulled the wrong way, but he was starting to fail at holding them in. Thankfully they got it unloaded and separated out within a decent amount of time.

Miss Grimshaw spoke up as they finished the last crate. "Good. Now you can go do whatever you were doing before. But tomorrow, Mr. Morgan, you will do your part around the camp. Everyone else does theirs, you can do yours."

"I-" Again he was interrupted.

"I don't care. You got to do your part." She turned to leave signaling the end of the conversation.

Again, Arthur didn't feel like arguing. He wanted to tell her that he had done everyone's chores, not just his own, for the week let alone that day. So he just sighed in resignation and turned to his tent. He was officially done with this day.

"Arthur?" Charles' soft voice called to him. "Are you okay?"

The cowboy paused in his trek and turned to the younger man. "Yeah, just a shitty week is all." He turned back to continue on to his tent and heard Charles sigh then walk away as well.

When he got to his tent he decided to close the sides in for a little privacy from everyone. He just didn't feel like conversing with anyone anymore tonight and closing the sides in told everyone to stay away.

He slowly peeled off his extra layers to make himself decently comfortable for the night. Then out of habit he cleaned and oiled his guns like every night and set them off to the side. Next he decided he needed to vent a little to his journal, the only thing that wouldn't argue back with him. Maybe that would help take the edge off a bit.

_The days are blurring together. I can't help but feel something bad is coming and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I'm starting to lose faith...Not only in everything happening...but in myself as well._

_I feel like I do everything for everyone and no one sees it. I can't even get a thank you that actually means something._

_Some days I just want to lie down and give up, let my tired body and weary soul rest, even for just a bit._

_I fear things are just going to go downhill from here and I can't find no way to prevent it._

_-Pictured- A horse sniffing at a rider sitting against a fallen long._

Setting the journal to the side, he rolled back onto his cot and let out another long and deep sigh. Maybe he could actually get a little sleep tonight with how tired he was.

**Author's Note:**

> My original idea was to have this an Arthur/Reader fic. I still might do so and add a second part. I'm not sure, we'll have to see if I can get my lazy butt to write it. As of right now it's complete!


End file.
